


Moving In

by Lire_Casander



Series: Mousetrap [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 05:04:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lire_Casander/pseuds/Lire_Casander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Draco find out a new roommate of sorts in their shared house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moving In

"Maximillian!"

The voice kept calling him over and over again, but Maximillian ignored it.

"Maximillian Caesar!"

It sounded really important. No one had ever called him by his full name except his mother, and that was only when she was mad at him. "I'm here," he replied to the voice, coming out of the shadows that had been shielding him.

"Lovely, Maximillian. I have an assignment for you," the voice sounded really close. "I know you just came back from the last one, but this needs a bit more... perseverance, if I may say so."

Maximillian nodded, and his whiskers trembled. "Whatever you say."

"Go back to where you came from and fix the war that has developped since you left."

The mouse nodded again and turned around. He didn't know what had happened to those humans since he left them kissing, but the voice was always right.

He had a problem to solve.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"I can't believe this!" Harry Potter let the box he was carrying slip to the ground, where it landed with a loud ‘thump’.

"C'mon, Harry, it's only a package!"

"It's the umpteeth box I’ve carried _your_ stuff, and it weighs a ton!"

"You didn't complain when you offered to help me last night!"

"Well, I wasn't thinking with my big head then!"

Draco looked at him in disbelief, as if his boyfriend had just said something highly inappropriate. "Fine then. I'll carry the rest of the boxes to the bedroom while you stay here and prepare something for dinner. Don't worry about me."

Harry frowned at Draco’s tone, but he didn't say a word. The Boy Who Lived shrugged, and then headed for the kitchen. He hadn't even entered it when he heard what sounded like a crash in the bedroom; worried, he spun around and called for Draco. "Dray, dear? Are you alright?"

When he didn't receive a reply, he went back to the bedroom he now shared with his boyfriend only to find the door shut. "Draco?" He lifted a hand to knock on the door, but he pulled back when Draco opened it with a start.

"You," he said, an accusing finger pointed straight at Harry. "You. Don't. Have. Silk. Sheets."

"You knew that before moving in, Draco!"

"I thought you would be _kind_ enough to buy some for _our_ first night in _our_ flat!"

Harry was gobsmacked. He wasn't even sure whether this had really something to do with the sheets, or if something else hid behind the superficial surface. "I didn't know it made a difference in your choice."

"It does!"

Harry shook his head. "Alright, then. Just... go back to the manor, then, and grab some silk sheets to use here. I'll---"

"You have the guts to kick me out of this flat?!" interrupted Draco, eyes widening.

"You're really dense, aren't you?" cried Harry, raising his arms in the air. "I'm not kicking you out! I'm just saying that you can go back, get them, and, by the time you're back, I'll have dinner ready!"

Draco's eyes showed mild understanding and some sort of regret. "Oh, erm... I'm sorry?" he offered.

"It's okay. Really. Now go and be back before midnight, or I'll become a pumpkin!"

Draco never got the allusion to _Cinderella_ in Harry's words. In fact, he had Apparated away before Harry could finish his sentence. The brunet sighed, allowing his body to relax – he hadn’t been aware of the tension in his shoulders. Burying his head in his hands, he began to wonder if living with Draco was a good idea at all – they seemed to have argued more in the couple of hours they had been in their apartment than in the first five months of their relationship.

He heard a soft noise coming from his left. He lifted his head from his hands and searched for the source of the sound. A furry little head appeared at a hole in the wall, and shiny, curious eyes looked straight into his green ones. "Who are you, little thing?" he asked softly, his Gryffindor traits taking over. He took the small animal poking out the wall in his rough, Auror hands. "You seem familiar."

It was a mouse, Harry realized. A small, beautiful, gray mouse with large, wide, black eyes that stared back at him with an unthinkable humanity. "Who are you, mate?" he repeated, an unknown, indescribable feeling pooling in his heart. "Have we seen each other before?" The mouse nodded, and Harry knew then that he had gone nuts. "I'm seeing things. I'm hallucinating. A mouse has just answered the rhetorical question I asked!" The animal nodded again and nibbled at Harry's finger. "Ouch!" he yelped when the mouse bit him. Then realization came to him in the shape of a mousetrap and an incident from the week before. "You're that slick little mouse who got Draco's finger trapped!"

He wasn't surprised when the mouse nodded again. "So, you're some sort of magical creature. I’m sure you have a name..."

The animal wiggled its whiskers and lifted its head so Harry could see the badge around his neck. "Maximillian Caesar," he muttered. "What a strange name for such a small mouse."

"Harry! Harry, I'm back, and I've come bearing black, silky sheets we can use to christ--- Harry?" Draco stopped dead in his tracks when he saw his boyfriend – the man he was going to live with, even after the sheet incident – hugging, _cuddling_ , a mouse in the middle of the corridor. "Harry, what are you doing with that rat?"

"Didn'tknowyouweregoingtobebackthisearly," mumbled Harry, annoying Draco with his tendency to join words by the last letter so it was almost impossible to understand half of what he was saying.

"Harry," Draco said warningly, and his boyfriend took the cue.

"I didn't think you were going to be back this early."

"Now I understand. And that's a good reason to be all over a street mouse while I'm gone? Please, don't tell me it reminds you of me!"

"It doesn't. Maximillian Caesar and I are good, old friends."

"Maximillian Caesar? Who's that?"

"It's the mouse's name."

"Maximillian Caesar?" repeated Draco, aghast. "You've named a mouse after two of the most important wizards in the world?"

"Erm, no, in fact the mouse showed me his own name. And I don't know what wizards you're talking about."

"Harry, you're so... innocent sometimes," Draco said fondly. "It doesn't matter. I thought you got rid of all the mice last week, when I got my finger trapped trying to shoo away the rats."

"It's the same mouse you shooed last week, Draco. Maxi has come back for some reason."

"Maxi?" Draco tried not to look straight into the pleading green eyes that were asking him, _begging_ him, to welcome the furry thing in Harry's hand into the house as a pet. He hated when Harry tried to get things his way without actually asking.

Draco hated that his heart melted whenever he saw that look in his boyfriend's eyes.

"Well, he was in need of a nickname. Maximillian Caesar is a bit wee long for an animal so small." Harry's voice was hopeful.

"It is not staying," Draco stated. "It is not---" He was interrupted by the mouse, who had gently jumped from Harry's hand onto his fine angora sweater and was nuzzling his ear. "Oh, fine! Maximillian Caesar can stay!" he finally conceded.

"Oh, Dray, you're such a sweetheart!"

"Don't go all mushy on me, Harry. You still have to pay for the silk issue."

"Why don't you show me why black silk sheets are better than my plain white ones?" Harry asked suggestively. A wiggle of his brows was all it took for Draco to grab his hand and drag him into the bedroom. Soft noises and pants could be heard almost immediately.

Maximillian Caesar smiled inwardly from the spot where he had landed at when Draco had abruptly leaned forward to take Harry's hand. He was sure that he had arrived at exactly the right moment.

Like he always did.  



End file.
